They had found it. Â A group of five Imperial soldiers stood in the rain over the body. From his hiding spot Otho could tell that they were waiting for a superior officer to arrive. He could also tell they were scared, they faced away from each other peering in to the dark forest, weapons drawn. Â Silently he slipped away through the trees.
Kneeling down he smashed the satchel in to the mud on the ground and then scraped it on a tree in several places. Â Waiting for a crash of thunder he flung the satchel as far away as he could before hurrying to get out of the area. Â It was about to crawl with soldiers and they would find the satchel dropped by the courier fleeing from the animal that killed him or dragged away by the curious creature.
He made his way through the forest for awhile before stopping at the junction of a game trail and a little clearing to catch his breath and listen as best he could. The cold wind of the storm blew stiffly through the trees causing them to sway wildly. Though the wind and rolling thunder hid any sound he made it also hid the sounds he was listening for.
He had not been there very long when he spotted several wildly swaying lantern lights through the trees spread out on either side of the game trail to his right. Â During brief moments when the storm was not as loud he could hear them shouting.
"What are they doing?" He whispered to himself.
Turning his gaze to the clearing on his left he scanned the dark treeline. Â There! As the lightning flashed he saw a figure concealed behind the treeline, then another, then another. Â Garlean troops. Â The shouting from the trail grew louder as they approached.
"Hounds to the hunters." He he hissed.
Suddenly the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised and a cold chill swept over his body. Â From the darkness behind him came a low, deep growl that he felt in his chest as much as he heard with his ears. Â This was the thing that killed the courier. Â
Every muscle in his body tightened and his jaws clinched involuntarily, his hands moving to his steel claws at his belt, the lanterns to his right bobbing ever closer, the shouting louder, the once barely visible forms at the treeline now completely hidden ready to attack.
Time slowed the instant he heard movement behind him, the scene lit up by a lightning flash that seemed to last for seconds. Â Drawing his fighting claws as he lunged forward he tried to dive across the trail but a vicious blow knocked him in to the clearing and he rolled to his feet.
Teeth and claws, large teeth and claws were lunging toward him from the darkness. Â All he had time to do was lean and fall away, the jaws snapping shut in the air inches from his face and one claw raking across his armor. Â He began rolling over and over away just as the hunters burst from their hiding places.
He had never before been glad to see Imperial troops.
As Otho sprang to his feet he saw it was large Coeurl roaring fiercely and spinning between him and the Garleans. Â A moment passed as the soldiers began to spread out a little and the Coeurl lowered it's head emitting another growl one felt more than heard.
So focused on the beast was Otho that he was caught off guard when the soldier burst from the treeline to his right driving a spear through his armor in to his hip. Driving his right arm down he snapped the spear haft with his forearm and plunged his left fighting claw in to the man's face.
As the soldiers plunged after the Coeurl it gave a crazed, wild howl and lunged to the attack.  Otho moved to work along the treeline to his right hoping to flee as soon as possible. Â
Duck, dodge, parry, strike, fall back. Â Multiple attackers. Â A cut to his shoulder, a stab to a foe's neck, blood on his face, in his mouth, a body smashed against his, on his back, back to his feet, steel barely missing his face. Â He kicked to a groin and then to the temple and felt the neck break. Â
Now steel in to his left arm, pain, fall back to trip over the Godsdamned Coeurl. Roll and dodge, steel plunging in to the ground around him, the wild, howling beast above him it's huge paws stomping him, flinging gore and mud all over him.
He had to get control. Â From his back two vicious kicks snapped two different shin bones. Â As he flung himself to his feet his claws found a chin to his right and a groin to his left. Â Stomp to the head of one of the broken shins broke the neck and a quick plunge his claw to the neck stopped the other.
Smearing away blood mixed with rain water from his eyes he took an instant to see the battle. Â Several of the lantern corp lay dead or going about the serious business of dying. Â A few of the hunters were down and motionless or dragging themselves away from the primal horror that whirled and howled in front of them.
Suddenly one of the lantern bearers dove in and smashed the lantern on the head of the Coeurl.  Flaming oil clung to the creature's face as it flashed it's claws across the soldier's mid section.  She fell and began to kick away from the beast trying to put things back inside her, but the struggle did not last long.
The Coeurl howled in rage fueled pain and Otho saw the troops falter in fear as it struck out.  Seeing that the beast was blinded he lunged past it and was suddenly amongst the hunter's spears.  The spears were too long, Otho was too close and too fast. He saw the shocked faces of each bathed in the flashing lightning as they fell.
Now he realized that he had been fighting from his knees. Â Looking down at his hip he saw a steady flow of blood. Â Trying to get to his feet his hip refused him. Â Now he realized that the battlefield was quiet. Â The ones that did still writhe on the ground could not be heard above the wind and thunder.
He could only shake his head when he saw more lanterns bobbing through the trees from the trail.  Again he tried to stand.  Again he failed.  The Coeurl stood still now trembling, it's head lowered, rain and blood dripping from it's face. Suddenly it raised it's head instinctively turning to the direction of the sound of the approaching troops. Â
Before he even realized what he was doing Otho made a clicking and hissing sound, the Coeurl whipped around.  Otho hoped that the sound would be so strange to the beast that it would know it meant no threat.  Since it did not lunge after him instantly Otho made the sound again and very clearly saw the signs of confusion on the bloody face of the beast.
Otho almost spoke but stopped thinking that a human voice might cause the thing to fly in to a rage.  He made the sound again and drug himself on one knee closer toward the beast. Shouting could be heard now but the Coeurl only twitched it's head slightly to the sounds.
Not able to believe the plan that was forming in his own mind he began dragging himself closer to the beast whispering "Shhhshhhh. Â Sssshhhshhh."
He would rather die in this thing's mouth than at the hands of Garlean scum.
Reaching out he grasped one of the horns behind the Coeurl's jaw.  The beast jerked it's head away, the mouth opening wide flinging gore from it's teeth.
"Sshhshhhshhhshhh" Otho cooed and reached out again.
This time the Courel froze. Â Otho froze waiting for the strike. Â But it did not come.
Shhhshing softly Otho leaned against it to stand and slowly moved down the side of the beast, observing the wounds left by the troops.  Shaking his head for a fool he began to slide on to the beast's back.  He could almost feel the same emotion coming from the Coeurl, neither believing what they were about to do.  Still the sound of the raised voices of more Imperial troops came closer and closer.
He knew that these creatures could be used as mounts but surely this is not the way it was done. Â Once on the beast's back Otho rocked forward and amazingly it began to move forward, directly toward a tree at the treeline. Â Thinking fast Otho reached down and tugged on one of the horns on the right side of it's face but the beast did not respond and bumped it's burned face in to the tree. Â The Coeurl recoiled in pain and a moment later Otho actually felt the creature stop and consider what had happened. Â Barely able to stay on he tugged on the right horn again and the beast veered to the right.
Soon they were bumbling slowly through the trees veering left, veering right, bumping here, bumping there, limbs and thorns lashing them as they went. Â The beast seemed to know that being quiet now was more important than speed because it moved cautiously. Â A bit more cautiously for Otho's taste who tried to urge it forward but was rewarded with a nasty swipe across his back with the thing's tail.
They moved along like this for a few hours as the storm slowly subsided to a misty, cold and windy early morning. Â Ahead Otho could see the trees were coming to an end at the edge of a ravine he knew well. Â Carefully he pulled back on horns on either side of the beast's head and rocked back slightly.Â
The Coeurl slowed obviously confused then stopped.  Otho slid off it's back and began to walk forward slowly, stopping at the treeline to listen.  He could hear the swollen stream at the bottom of the ravine brawling over the rocks.  Looking up and down the treeline he saw nothing and walked out to the edge of the ravine.
Hearing one alarmingly loud sniff he turned his head to see the Coeurl walking up behind him.
"No, no..." he said but it was too late.
The beast bumped a shoulder in to Otho and over the edge he went but not before flinging out a hand and grasping the beast's whip-like appendage. Â It screeched in alarm and pulled back causing the rain soaked ground at the edge of the ravine to give way.
Both of them tumbled fifteen muddy feet to splash in to the shallow, icy water of the rain swollen creek.  Otho jumped to his feet mad and snorting water, the Coeurl jumped it his feet mad and snorting water.
Grinding his teeth Otho leaned on the beast's shoulder, his hip throbbing in pain and started to move along the stream the cold of the storm and the stress of the ordeal starting to creep in to his bones. Â Walking alongside him he could tell that the Courel was laboring as well.
Finally he came to the spot he had in mind. Â It was a small cave hidden by the roots of a massive tree above. Â Otho shook his head when realizing that the reason the cave was here was obviously because the stream cut it out when full of rain and thus the floor of the cave was several inches deep in icy, cold water.
Shaking his head again he squeezed through the roots and sat against the cave wall facing the mouth and looked at the Coeurl. Â Otho thought for a moment and frankly did not care if the beast came in to the cave or not and he could tell that it was weighing it's options as well. Â He tore some of his shirt to bind the wound at his hip as the Coeurl stood there moving it's head left and right trying to decide what to do. Â
But finally it painfully pressed it's head through the roots and squeezed it's massive form inside which pressed Otho back in to the soft earth of the cave wall. The Coeurl plopped down on top of him and Otho let out a sigh.
"I hate cats." He said.
Kneeling down he smashed the satchel in to the mud on the ground and then scraped it on a tree in several places. Â Waiting for a crash of thunder he flung the satchel as far away as he could before hurrying to get out of the area. Â It was about to crawl with soldiers and they would find the satchel dropped by the courier fleeing from the animal that killed him or dragged away by the curious creature.
He made his way through the forest for awhile before stopping at the junction of a game trail and a little clearing to catch his breath and listen as best he could. The cold wind of the storm blew stiffly through the trees causing them to sway wildly. Though the wind and rolling thunder hid any sound he made it also hid the sounds he was listening for.
He had not been there very long when he spotted several wildly swaying lantern lights through the trees spread out on either side of the game trail to his right. Â During brief moments when the storm was not as loud he could hear them shouting.
"What are they doing?" He whispered to himself.
Turning his gaze to the clearing on his left he scanned the dark treeline. Â There! As the lightning flashed he saw a figure concealed behind the treeline, then another, then another. Â Garlean troops. Â The shouting from the trail grew louder as they approached.
"Hounds to the hunters." He he hissed.
Suddenly the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised and a cold chill swept over his body. Â From the darkness behind him came a low, deep growl that he felt in his chest as much as he heard with his ears. Â This was the thing that killed the courier. Â
Every muscle in his body tightened and his jaws clinched involuntarily, his hands moving to his steel claws at his belt, the lanterns to his right bobbing ever closer, the shouting louder, the once barely visible forms at the treeline now completely hidden ready to attack.
Time slowed the instant he heard movement behind him, the scene lit up by a lightning flash that seemed to last for seconds. Â Drawing his fighting claws as he lunged forward he tried to dive across the trail but a vicious blow knocked him in to the clearing and he rolled to his feet.
Teeth and claws, large teeth and claws were lunging toward him from the darkness. Â All he had time to do was lean and fall away, the jaws snapping shut in the air inches from his face and one claw raking across his armor. Â He began rolling over and over away just as the hunters burst from their hiding places.
He had never before been glad to see Imperial troops.
As Otho sprang to his feet he saw it was large Coeurl roaring fiercely and spinning between him and the Garleans. Â A moment passed as the soldiers began to spread out a little and the Coeurl lowered it's head emitting another growl one felt more than heard.
So focused on the beast was Otho that he was caught off guard when the soldier burst from the treeline to his right driving a spear through his armor in to his hip. Driving his right arm down he snapped the spear haft with his forearm and plunged his left fighting claw in to the man's face.
As the soldiers plunged after the Coeurl it gave a crazed, wild howl and lunged to the attack.  Otho moved to work along the treeline to his right hoping to flee as soon as possible. Â
Duck, dodge, parry, strike, fall back. Â Multiple attackers. Â A cut to his shoulder, a stab to a foe's neck, blood on his face, in his mouth, a body smashed against his, on his back, back to his feet, steel barely missing his face. Â He kicked to a groin and then to the temple and felt the neck break. Â
Now steel in to his left arm, pain, fall back to trip over the Godsdamned Coeurl. Roll and dodge, steel plunging in to the ground around him, the wild, howling beast above him it's huge paws stomping him, flinging gore and mud all over him.
He had to get control. Â From his back two vicious kicks snapped two different shin bones. Â As he flung himself to his feet his claws found a chin to his right and a groin to his left. Â Stomp to the head of one of the broken shins broke the neck and a quick plunge his claw to the neck stopped the other.
Smearing away blood mixed with rain water from his eyes he took an instant to see the battle. Â Several of the lantern corp lay dead or going about the serious business of dying. Â A few of the hunters were down and motionless or dragging themselves away from the primal horror that whirled and howled in front of them.
Suddenly one of the lantern bearers dove in and smashed the lantern on the head of the Coeurl.  Flaming oil clung to the creature's face as it flashed it's claws across the soldier's mid section.  She fell and began to kick away from the beast trying to put things back inside her, but the struggle did not last long.
The Coeurl howled in rage fueled pain and Otho saw the troops falter in fear as it struck out.  Seeing that the beast was blinded he lunged past it and was suddenly amongst the hunter's spears.  The spears were too long, Otho was too close and too fast. He saw the shocked faces of each bathed in the flashing lightning as they fell.
Now he realized that he had been fighting from his knees. Â Looking down at his hip he saw a steady flow of blood. Â Trying to get to his feet his hip refused him. Â Now he realized that the battlefield was quiet. Â The ones that did still writhe on the ground could not be heard above the wind and thunder.
He could only shake his head when he saw more lanterns bobbing through the trees from the trail.  Again he tried to stand.  Again he failed.  The Coeurl stood still now trembling, it's head lowered, rain and blood dripping from it's face. Suddenly it raised it's head instinctively turning to the direction of the sound of the approaching troops. Â
Before he even realized what he was doing Otho made a clicking and hissing sound, the Coeurl whipped around.  Otho hoped that the sound would be so strange to the beast that it would know it meant no threat.  Since it did not lunge after him instantly Otho made the sound again and very clearly saw the signs of confusion on the bloody face of the beast.
Otho almost spoke but stopped thinking that a human voice might cause the thing to fly in to a rage.  He made the sound again and drug himself on one knee closer toward the beast. Shouting could be heard now but the Coeurl only twitched it's head slightly to the sounds.
Not able to believe the plan that was forming in his own mind he began dragging himself closer to the beast whispering "Shhhshhhh. Â Sssshhhshhh."
He would rather die in this thing's mouth than at the hands of Garlean scum.
Reaching out he grasped one of the horns behind the Coeurl's jaw.  The beast jerked it's head away, the mouth opening wide flinging gore from it's teeth.
"Sshhshhhshhhshhh" Otho cooed and reached out again.
This time the Courel froze. Â Otho froze waiting for the strike. Â But it did not come.
Shhhshing softly Otho leaned against it to stand and slowly moved down the side of the beast, observing the wounds left by the troops.  Shaking his head for a fool he began to slide on to the beast's back.  He could almost feel the same emotion coming from the Coeurl, neither believing what they were about to do.  Still the sound of the raised voices of more Imperial troops came closer and closer.
He knew that these creatures could be used as mounts but surely this is not the way it was done. Â Once on the beast's back Otho rocked forward and amazingly it began to move forward, directly toward a tree at the treeline. Â Thinking fast Otho reached down and tugged on one of the horns on the right side of it's face but the beast did not respond and bumped it's burned face in to the tree. Â The Coeurl recoiled in pain and a moment later Otho actually felt the creature stop and consider what had happened. Â Barely able to stay on he tugged on the right horn again and the beast veered to the right.
Soon they were bumbling slowly through the trees veering left, veering right, bumping here, bumping there, limbs and thorns lashing them as they went. Â The beast seemed to know that being quiet now was more important than speed because it moved cautiously. Â A bit more cautiously for Otho's taste who tried to urge it forward but was rewarded with a nasty swipe across his back with the thing's tail.
They moved along like this for a few hours as the storm slowly subsided to a misty, cold and windy early morning. Â Ahead Otho could see the trees were coming to an end at the edge of a ravine he knew well. Â Carefully he pulled back on horns on either side of the beast's head and rocked back slightly.Â
The Coeurl slowed obviously confused then stopped.  Otho slid off it's back and began to walk forward slowly, stopping at the treeline to listen.  He could hear the swollen stream at the bottom of the ravine brawling over the rocks.  Looking up and down the treeline he saw nothing and walked out to the edge of the ravine.
Hearing one alarmingly loud sniff he turned his head to see the Coeurl walking up behind him.
"No, no..." he said but it was too late.
The beast bumped a shoulder in to Otho and over the edge he went but not before flinging out a hand and grasping the beast's whip-like appendage. Â It screeched in alarm and pulled back causing the rain soaked ground at the edge of the ravine to give way.
Both of them tumbled fifteen muddy feet to splash in to the shallow, icy water of the rain swollen creek.  Otho jumped to his feet mad and snorting water, the Coeurl jumped it his feet mad and snorting water.
Grinding his teeth Otho leaned on the beast's shoulder, his hip throbbing in pain and started to move along the stream the cold of the storm and the stress of the ordeal starting to creep in to his bones. Â Walking alongside him he could tell that the Courel was laboring as well.
Finally he came to the spot he had in mind. Â It was a small cave hidden by the roots of a massive tree above. Â Otho shook his head when realizing that the reason the cave was here was obviously because the stream cut it out when full of rain and thus the floor of the cave was several inches deep in icy, cold water.
Shaking his head again he squeezed through the roots and sat against the cave wall facing the mouth and looked at the Coeurl. Â Otho thought for a moment and frankly did not care if the beast came in to the cave or not and he could tell that it was weighing it's options as well. Â He tore some of his shirt to bind the wound at his hip as the Coeurl stood there moving it's head left and right trying to decide what to do. Â
But finally it painfully pressed it's head through the roots and squeezed it's massive form inside which pressed Otho back in to the soft earth of the cave wall. The Coeurl plopped down on top of him and Otho let out a sigh.
"I hate cats." He said.
